thirteen pulp magazines
by volaret
Summary: Tahno has a penchant for flowers and a particular flower shop. Of course he runs into the Avatar there, all worry and no bite. She's not content with letting him think he's useless. Not now or ever. He's really just along for the ride.


**AN**: This was also published on AO3, and there's no real difference between the two versions (as much as I love taking a weedwhacker to things I write). I hope you like it, it was fun to do! :)

P.S. I failed at growing tomatoes once and that's the closest I've gotten to gardening. Please don't kill me in my sleep if I made too many errors D:

* * *

Tahno could be called many things, and about half of them would be correct. More than half of them would be insulting. All of them he loved to hear.

He called himself useless often now. He was sure there were much worse words for him to be called, and even to call himself, but useless was enough. He didn't want his mood to grow even worse; he was self-aware enough for that. Was there even another bottom after rock bottom? If there was, like he said, he didn't want to know.

Last night he went out at night for the first time; after days and days of what felt like endless, dank muck; a quicksand that sucked him in and refused to release him.

Everyone kept their distance from him, looking at him with eyes full of ugly pity. Pity was good for nothing, so why did they keep bothering him with it? How was he supposed to respond to the "sorry"s and the consolations? He was perfectly capable of pretty words, but not in response to the bile they spewed that meant nothing except to make the sender feel better. No one truly felt _sorry_ for him, and their consolations fell right at his feet and never truly reached him.

Korra's did, though. A bit. More than he liked. And really, despite her brash way of trying to comfort him, she went after Amon and failed spectacularly. As she was wont to do. And the police fared even worse; he didn't even want to think about them.

And besides, this wasn't some dumb story. He wasn't going to feel whole if Amon bit the bullet, because his bending, the thing that made him feel whole, was missing. Like he had lost an arm and kept imagining it there, could feel the muscles moving, but all that existed there was nothingness. He wanted it back, that's all he wanted, that's all he dreamed about.

Besides, if he was in a story, he definitely wouldn't be the suave hero. He was too underhanded for that, especially when it came to sneaking around with women. "Vengeance" was just a word like "boyfriend."

His story was probably a pulp, with tattered yellow pages. He was the damsel with half her chest sticking out of her dress, falling faint as the Avatar protects her and swears to get revenge for her.

He chuckled for the first time in days, then spat.

_For the first time in my life, I don't know what to do_. _I don't even know who I am anymore_.

He had started to doubt himself, and if there was one thing Tahno didn't do, it was doubt himself. He doubted others, yes. Self-doubt was for those who couldn't keep up with him. Losing teams, losing men, losing women.

He sighed and shrugged, and turned himself around. If he was going to sink into self-pity he might as well get something done.

He stopped at the block that led to the flower shop. This part of town was decrepit and ugly, hardly the pristine metropolis that surrounded the center of the city. Each of the buildings was more depressing than the last, some abandoned, and others staffed by people who looked like they had battled with themselves and lost. He really should have stuck with somewhere more suited to him, he used to think. He was pompous then, though, he knew. It was like having the memories of a stranger where your own should be.

Elitism aside, he couldn't bring himself to go to a different shop ever since he got to the city. Not even a street vendor either.

It fit him now, as patronizing and trite as it was to say so.

He tried not to look at himself through the shop window as he walked briskly to the building's door. The sight of himself would only darken his mood. He didn't need any more of that; to say the least.

The sound of bells greeted him. Tinny, annoying bells. He hated the sound they made ever since he first stepped in this place, and he hated them now.

"Can't you get rid of these damn bells?" he grumbled to no one in particular, and took a cursory glance around.

Flowers were everywhere, as usual. You could tell they were cared for, but they were crammed together on shelves that looked as if they could break at any minute. The shelves, probably originally a depressing shade of wooden brown, were painted obnoxious colors to match the flowers, bright and blinding as they refused to mix together.

He, the other him, usually liked them. Though he would never admit it because they were far too tacky. But right now it made his eyes hurt.

He made his way to the counter with a push through some trees and a nimble step over some soil. He knocked on the counter's wooden frame. It had kept its original colors at least. "I know you heard me come in."

A blur of a child jumped up, shrieked, and smiled. Her hair was matted, her fingers and clothes covered in dirt, but her smile was wide. "I was just...um..."

"Slacking off reading pulps again. If this weren't your dad's place you'd be fired, kid."

An awkward silence, and then a sneeze. The kid shook out her hair, smiling brightly at him and ignoring his curt words. She always ignored his complaining about her slacking off, it had become sort of a routine. He didn't even bother to exaggerate brushing the dirt off him today; he didn't care about it for once.

"What do you want today?" she asked, smiling through gapped teeth and hoisting herself up so she could peek beyond the counter. It was far too tall for her. He knew there was a stepstool behind it, the lazy kid probably just forgot about it.

"May I suggest the ivy?" she continued, despite his inner monologue. "It means friendship or fidelity. You could use it to get a lady off your case, give 'er the old 'just friends' routine. Or a lily, for beauty. The lady would love that. A hydrangea will make her stop right in her tracks and f-f-f-freeze-"

"Please stop, Ama," he sighed, exasperated. She did this every single time he came in the shop, and it wore out its welcome by the third.

Nope, the kid was still making chattering noises. She had a future as an actress, at least.

"Oh, you want red carnations again? So boring." The girl braced her arms on the counter, and with a light push, hopped up on it with a thump. It would have been perfect had her leg not hit a mug full of pens, which rolled on the counter and clattered to the floor. The mug was slower, and Tahno sprung to catch it before it fell to the ground and broke. He didn't even bother to pick the pens up, she would just knock them over again.

That annoying bell rang. Tahno didn't even bother to look at who wandered in, it was probably the girl's deadbeat father.

"Um, hello?"

He knew that impossible voice.

Trying to save face earlier in front of her was unbelievably taxing. Something about that girl saw right through him. She saw how weak he was, how empty he was. He didn't like it. Emotions were weakness.

"It's the Avatar!" Ama nearly screeched, jumping off of the counter and nearly colliding into Tahno. Before he could even grab the kid to prevent her from fucking up the shop even more, she was already across the room.

Ama was bombarding her with questions, and Korra smiled her usual grin, giggling that the kid reminded her of someone she knew.

Korra was...tired, it looked like. Clearly, the week's events had taken their toll on her. At least she didn't look as bad as he did, for a girl who spent most of her time shooting waves of fire at people. Her hair looked a bit dishveled, and she was carrying a brown shoulder bag around. He had never seen it and fuck if he knew what was in it.

She looked up at him. His eyes met hers for a second, until she broke the gaze, eyes downcast. He sighed. He really couldn't take a part two right now.

"Heya, Tahno." Her voice cracked as she said his name; then a cough and a sheepish grin. Her Avatar training really should have included how to be cool under pressure.

"Hey, Avatar." He didn't even bother to look at her again, suddenly busying himself with the pens that had clattered to the floor eons earlier. Something to do, right? Anything from having to fake again.

Ama cut in again, as always. A blessing for once. "What would you like, Miss Avatar? I'm afraid we don't have special Avatar discounts, but no one in the city knows more about flowers than me! Not even my dad. Maybe grumpy over there, though."

"Grumpy?" Korra was puzzled, her emotion easily read on her face. And then she caught on. "You...flowers?"

"Yes, me flowers. You Avatar," Tahno replied, shrugging it off and placing the pens back in the mug. "I'm after a lot of women. Only fitting I'd know about flowers. I used to use watering them for practice."

Oh fuck, why did he say that?

"Oh..." she trailed off, looking down at the floor again. Great. He didn't have time to paddle out and save her when he already felt like he was drowning himself. Then again, it was his problem for blurting that out like an idiot.

Well, at least that saved them from small talk. He could tell as soon as he first met her that she was terrible at it.

"I can still do it by hand, you know." A shrug, a noncommittal smile. "It was great practice in control, though. Too much, the flower drowns. Too little, the flower dies."

Korra perked up a little and smiled. Forget the pity, was she _worried _about him? Had he read her wrong?

He was pondering how far he had fallen when Korra pulled out a list and blurted out the longest sentence since Ama.

"Um, I'm not sure what I'd like, and I'm not sure about what kind of flowers they are, but I saw a lot of them in the city and so I kind of drew them when I saw them and wrote a description of what they looked like in case I forgot-"

Ama snatched the paper out of her hand before Korra could slaughter the laws of punctuation even more. Before Ama could give it the most cursory of glances, though, Tahno had snatched it again.

"What."

The room was completely silent for what felt like minutes.

Tahno burst into laughter for the second time that day, but this time his shoulders were shaking, his stomach was heaving, and he felt like the air had been knocked out of him. Korra couldn't airbend, so he knew that was _all_ because of those...things she drew.

Korra knew exactly what he was laughing at. For a second he thought she was going to earthbend him up and away in her typical act before you think fashion. But apparently there were some cogs churning upstairs, because she sighed and decided against it.

"Drawing isn't one of my strong suits, okay?"

"Lemme see, lemme see!" Ama jumped up and snatched the paper out of Tahno's hands and started giggling as well.

"You're both terrible!"

"Like the chrysanthemum you drew," Tahno heaved, his breath coming out in bursts. "It looked phallic!"

Korra turned bright red and spun around, obviously pouting. She was cute that way, at least.

"What's-" Ama started.

"Nope," Tahno cut her off, giving the kid a gentle shove towards the left side of the store. "Aster. It's an usually purple flower that grows in the wild. Perfect for you of all people to give as a gift. I'm guessing this is for that councilman you're staying with."

Korra circled around, sheepish yet again. "Yeah, for his wife Pema too. They've been taking care of me awfully well, and y'know, I feel like I'm a handful-"

"Would you be anything but?"

Korra burst out laughing, obviously embarrassed. Her voice reminded him of that irritating bell, light and chiming and refusing to be left unheard.

But she wasn't angry with Tahno for his crack at least, and that was something. Something surprising. Pity or worry, maybe both combined together to become a super-hybrid called pityworry, was really this magical thing.

If he felt any better he would be inclined to push its limits.

Ama returned with a pot of aster, beaming as if she had thought of supplying it for Korra herself.

Korra was silent, her gaze focused on the flower. For some reason, she looked like the wind had been knocked out of her. She slowly went for one of its long lilac petals, a gentleness in her touch, as if she was afraid of hurting it. Like it would crumble.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, and it caught Tahno aback, like the wind had been knocked out of him. Again.

She really was charming in her own rough way. Not that he hadn't noticed that before. He meant every little innuendo that wrestled their way out of his lips.

"It means patience," Tahno said, eyeing her. She didn't hear, or at least she didn't register it at once.

"Oh...Oh!" And she spun around to look at him, indignant, the fire in her threatening to burn her; and him if he let it. For a waterbender, fire certainly did suit her. Too much, in fact. It irritated him a little.

"Don't take it out on the messenger, Avatar. Better this than one that says 'sorry for your loss.'"

And she was laughing again. He really had never met anyone like her.

"How much?" she smiled at Ama, and Tahno looked away, uninterested.

He scanned the flower shop, and its blues and yellows and greens and purples and pinks, each screaming for attention, each screaming to be heard, and he felt tired. You could bend the water right out of flowers if you wished. Was he like that, too? Just some pretty flower drained of what made it whole - and then left to die, if it wasn't dead already?

He shrugged off the thought. He really was prone to melodrama.

Just when he was pondering what flower to get, he was jolted from his thoughts by the sound of something falling. It was a dull clatter, so he knew it wasn't something expensive at least. He was long past pretending he didn't care about this shop and the annoying kid that ran it.

Korra had somehow managed to empty her entire bag on the floor. He didn't know how it happened-

"Um I was trying to find my money in the bottom and-"

Tahno ignored how impossible that was, how impossible she was, and helped her pick her things up as Ama scurried to help as well. Korra was blurting out "sorry" every five seconds which would have been endearing if he wasn't blatantly tuning her out so he could snoop.

Okay, he was human. A human non-bender with no direction now. But damn it, he was still nosy as ever. At least that was a constant.

"You read pulps."

It wasn't a question, it was a fact. Her bag was full of them. All detective ones, of course. A dashing hero and some big-breasted lady on every cover.

"Um, yes," she stammered. "They're amazing! I love reading stuff like that. I skip past the romance bits though. They're really boring."

Tahno resisted the urge to say that the romance was the best part and sighed instead. "Do what you want, Korra."

The sound of her name caught her off guard, and she stared at him as if he were some anomaly in human skin. Was it the first time he actually called her by her name? He didn't remember.

Another sigh, and he pulled the money out of his pocket to pay for her aster. "Kid, I'll take a gloxinia, and keep the change."

"Ah, the gloxin-"

"Ama."

"Fine, going."

Korra smiled at him, and thanked him. He looked away, it was kind of odd having her look at him like that. He didn't want her pity, or her worry, or her thanks. Or all of the above. Maybe.

"Here you are," Ama beamed, holding the plant out to him like it was a treasure. "On the house."

"What-"

"Nope, you're the only one putting food on our table anyway. Get better already so you can help me again!"

He nodded, uncomprehending. He hadn't even noticed the kid was worried. He was really more lost than he thought.

He turned from both of them, and walked out, the annoying bell signaling his exit somehow sounding less...annoying.

Okay, this was starting to grate on his nerves.

She had been following him for a while. He didn't know if she had hoped to be stealthy on that big beast of hers, but it was clear that she was following him.

He stopped suddenly and the big bear screeched to a halt.

"What do you want?" he turned around, exhausted.

"I'm not following you or anything! I was just...um..."

So, so guilty.

"Okay, you completely were. And?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. When we talked, I don't know, you sounded like you weren't-"

"I told you I was fine, though," an edge appeared in his voice, although he wasn't sure if he had told her he was fine or not.

"You're not," she sighed. Once again, she was easy to read. Her face was clouded in worry, sadness, and was that even fear?

"Do what you want." He turned on his heels and started walking again. There was no protesting, it was clear she always did what she wanted.

She smiled, jumped off of that - he wasn't sure what it was, and began to walk behind him. Maybe she thought walking beside him was too presumptuous?

"Make yourself useful and light me up at least," he called back, stopping and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. He-

"You smoke?" Korra was peeking over his shoulder, too close, again unaware of just how..._something_ she was. She didn't even bother to concentrate, and with a flash, the end of the cigarette was alight.

So, she _could_ control herself sometimes.

"I just started now, sweetheart," he said, inhaling, and breathing in the calm.

It wasn't really a lie.

He was surprised how easy it was to talk to her, one-on-one. Usually they traded insults and banter, but speaking together as people was something else.

She had this way of making you feel completely at ease. Partly, he supposed, because of the way she reacted. She didn't hide anything, or rather, she couldn't. She said the first thing that came to mind, was ruled by her emotions, was ruled by instinct.

He was the opposite, calculating, suppressing, catering his words to the person he talked to. That's how he was charming, he supposed, but she was charming in an entirely different way. He was letting his guard down.

She put a name to the beast, Naga or something, and he didn't bother asking about the raid on the Sato place. Obviously she didn't want to talk about it, from the way she avoided his eyes whenever he came close to asking about it. For some reason he didn't want to see her distressed. And really, he had read enough from the newspaper anyway. At least his calculations about her mood were good for something.

When they neared his apartment, he dropped the cigarette butt on the ground and smashed it with his heel. He half thought Korra was going to give him a long-winded lecture about littering, but she didn't say anything at all.

His apartment building was ornate, inside and out. You could tell that it was intricately crafted, covered in an art style Tahno had long since forgotten the name for. The entrance was just as beautiful, an ornate arch manned by a burly looking doorman.

He nodded at the man, who then eyed the slack-jawed Korra curiously, but let them through. The bear wasn't allowed at first, but Tahno slipped the guy a bit extra.

Once they stepped into the building, he wondered just how sheltered Korra had been. She had to be dragged to enough of those schmoozing parties held in the city's most beautiful buildings (while she was paraded around like livestock so the upper echelon could give their customary oohs and aahs.) But she stood in that foyer, blue eyes wide open, clearly wanting to point and direct his attention at the marble statues or the ornate carvings that adorned its walls. Somehow he felt embarrassed by the building's excess.

"The garden's back this way," he said slowly, kind of wishing to not disturb her drooling. "I doubt you came here to see my apartment."

She nodded, ignoring his innuendo. He shrugged it off and shuffled to the back doors which led outside. Out back there was a semi-park that brimmed with flowers and occasional higher ups that balked at Korra's animal. But the park wasn't what he was heading for.

The garden in actual name was found after you wound around a stone path connected to the park's, the garden's path itself somewhat secluded, yet open enough that it could easily be recognized. The garden mirrored the way to it, hidden away and encircled by a pebbled path.

The garden itself was perfect for his training; really, he didn't quite mind an audience. His usual one knew his schedule like clockwork.

Too many people there and he lost the connection with nature, though - his concentration dulled as he became lost in the smiles and claps and praise of the people. He was suddenly aware how much he minded that.

But at least no one was in the garden now. He supposed that was some small blessing, he really didn't feel like having to listen to other people's bleating about him and the stares that came with being Amon's freak on display.

"The manager lets me take care of it in exchange for press." His voice wavered. "I'm not sure what the deal will be now."

Korra wasn't listening. She had that awed expression again.

The garden was breathtaking, he knew it. He had cultivated it himself, and if there was one thing he knew, it was how to garden. It was a small enclosure, encircled by trees and that pebbled path, and covered in color. A small bench was to the right of him, the only bench. The garden's beauty wasn't unlike the blinding array of the run-down shop, now that he thought about it. Beautiful and loud and blurry. It nauseated him now, too.

Naga lay down on the path to the garden, effectively blocking it from any passers-by. He wondered if the bear knew what he had thought.

Korra stepped forward with trepidation, as if she was scared of crushing the plants. Odd. Tahno had only ever seen her rush forward.

"It's...wow." The words were slow, a smile bright on her face, her eyes gleaming, and he was wholly aware how off his game he was.

"Normally, I would take a deep bow and pick a carnation or something equally gorgeous and significant, and say it only enhances your beauty." He sighed. "Forgive me if I don't feel like doing that now."

She scratched the back of her head and grinned. She didn't even blush, which irked him a little. He wasn't that much off his game. Then again, he couldn't remember Korra _ever_ blushing around him.

He already knew that though, his usual tricks didn't work on her.

He shrugged off the thought, anyway. He was hardly in the mood to try anything. Still, though.

She started to walk to his side, to sit on the lone garden bench near him, as if to watch him.

"Wait a second, where are you going?"

"To sit," she said slowly, clearly uncomprehending.

"You're not going to sit," he sighed, grabbing her arm and leading her toward a small, semi-hidden path in the back of the garden that led through the trees. He would have reached for her hand had he had a mind to, but his mind was elsewhere. This girl really did have an otherworldly power to relax anyone with her.

She followed him, not even arguing. This was clearly against her lead, don't follow, routine - but she was selfless sometimes. That was worth noting.

He let go of her arm once they reached their destination. With a grunt, he pushed open the door of a shed, much to the begrudging of its old hinges.

Korra immediately got what he was trying to get her to do once she saw the water pump. "Um, are you sure it's alright? There's no-"

"It's fine." Slow, secure, yet his voice sounded like it was on unstable footing. "Please...Korra."

She nodded, grabbing the pump. No questioning, no second glances. "How many buckets?"

"Four, if you don't mind."

He watched her, his back on the back wall of the shed as she filled the buckets up. Even here, determined and sweaty, she was beautiful. He wondered if her teammates were fighting over her, and then realized he didn't really care.

"Alright, got 'em. I'll take them, pretty boy."

"You sure you can take four?" he asked, careful, leaning into the back wall of the shed even more.

"You don't think I'm strong enough?" She didn't even bother to look back at him.

"I think you don't know your limits."

She whipped around, clearly frustrated, but broke a little...and smiled. "Maybe you're right."

Sadness, regret, pain. She carried too much on her shoulders.

She thrust a bucket in his hands before he could ruminate on her even more. "Here, then, if you're so worried."

"Only returning the favor." He shrugged.

"I know you are!" she yelled, running off down the path, the buckets clearly in capable hands.

As he stared at the one bucket in his own hands, he was left to wonder how weak she thought _he_ was. He should be insulted, he supposed. But he wasn't.

She's really a quick learner. Although she did learn from Katara, so really, skill might have been more of a part of it.

He had started off his lecture by emphasizing the importance of _control_, something she so clearly lacked. Reckless abandon would drown the flowers, and too little would kill them - or at least make it so she has to drizzle them with a bit of water for hours upon hours.

She nodded, shrugging him off. She began to bend the water out of the bucket and-

"No, no, no, no!" he yelled, causing her to lose focus, the water falling aimlessly on the pebbled ground. Out of the way of the flowers, at least.

"You're not pushing into it." He sighed, wishing for something, anything to happen, for his bending to suddenly resurge. Watching her like this was harder than he thought it would be. A piece of him was missing, and it didn't leave a clean hole where it was ripped out - it ripped into other parts of him, touching very part of his body until all he felt was numbness.

She pouted a bit, but caught his expression. "Should I stop? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said slowly. He was exasperated. Not at her.

He was the one failing.

"Like this."

He took her arms, to her surprise, but he was strictly buisness. "Light on your feet." He moved her arms so they pushed gracefully upward, and she stiffened a little at his contact.

"You can...feel the weight of it, right? You know what's too little. You know what's too much. If it's not right, return it to the bucket, alright?"

She nodded, brow furrowed in concentration. He stepped back and watched her.

It was something. When she actually listened, she went far. Her sloppy form was gone, her face serene, her eyes focused and concentrated. He knew what she was feeling now, the weight of the water, and the connectedness that came with being able to control anything that it was in, anything that touched it. That power was initially overwhelming for him, he remembered. He wondered if it had been for her.

She moved the water up, as if it were climbing a ladder, and deftly rose it above the flowers.

She wavered a little, he could tell, because the water wavered. But she dissipated the water just the same, pulling droplets down as if it were a raincloud. Bit by bit they hit the flowers, near perfectly. It was as if he had done it himself.

Once she was done, she jumped up, cheered, and bounded towards him with an almost ferocious speed. He half expected her to crush him in a hug. Disappointing.

"I got it!" she said brightly, beaming. "Was I okay?"

Why did she need him to tell her she was great? Just watching her was enough. Could she not see it? Was he over-thinking things?

"You were great, Korra. Thank you."

He figured he might as well go for it, at least they were far away from the flowers if she decided to make him her personal cigarette.

He pulled her close to him, surprised at how soft she was, despite appearances. He thanked her again, words breathed in her hair to no one in particular, and he could swear he saw her smile.

"Okay, you can get off me now."

"Are you blushing?"

"No, I'm not."

Yes, she was.

He smiled, narrowly avoiding a rock that almost collided with his head. At least he wasn't completely off his game.

"Here, take this," he said, grabbing at the pot of gloxinia he bought, now comfortably resting near Naga. "I got it for you, anyway. As thanks. You're the only person I've spoken to that actually means what they say. Besides that dumb kid." He handed it to her, his fingers over hers. Hers were less rough than he thought they would be. He lingered a little too long.

Korra didn't notice and eyed the plant suspiciously, breaking their contact to poke it, as if some angry bug was going to fly out of it and sting her to death. So much for her enraptured state earlier.

"Wait. What does this one mean?" Her brow was furrowed, her gaze questioning.

"Nothing you'll ever know."

She bristled, looking back and forth between the plant and Tahno, her pout growing more and more prominent. "I could just ask that shop girl, you know, and then your game would be up. You might as well tell me right now."

"That would ruin the game if I told you, wouldn't it?" He shrugged, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. He lit it, eyeing her.

"You had a lighter? Why did you ask me-"

Another shrug.

"Ugh, nevermind!" she looked down at the plant and frowned. A pause. "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. Absolutely nothing. Sit. Smoke."

Korra rolled her eyes, and went toward Naga, pulling her brown bag off of the bear's back.

She thrust the bag toward him, unable to meet his eyes. "I have thirteen in here, okay? If you burn them, I'll burn you."

"Duly noted," he smirked, almost close to laughing.

"They should get you through a couple of days. When you finish them, bring 'em back to me on the island. Maybe Tenzin can think of something for you to do."

Now he was truly confused. "Why not now?"

"You look like you're about to break over and snap. But I've seen you fight, I've seen your bending. You won't give up. These books are just to tide you over I guess. I know I couldn't just sit in a room and think for days, so here, just take them already."

She really was amazing. He knew that, though. He knew that ever since he saw her.

"Thirteen books in two days, though? No wonder you read so fast, you skip the romance."

"It's boring though," she balked, sighing. "I just wanna skip straight to the action."

"The romance is the best part, though."

"I could burn you at any time, you know."

"Right, right."

He thumbed the cover of the first book, thinking. She had left an hour or two ago, and he had returned to his apartment, the bag of books now his own. Only that girl would dump 13 pulps in a bag when she decided to take a trip to the flower store. She was impractical, brash. But there was comfort in her words.

The cover of the book he had was of a man, in somewhat detective garb, and a woman - clearly cross and angry with him, yet the look in her eyes told that she would give way to the hero in the book's pages.

_"A true hero turns down no request!"_ was written in yellow script on the left side of the cover.

Was that what she was? A true hero? And did that make him the damsel? He was certainly in distress.

An awful pun, but it was apt.

He cracked open the book, relaxed on the couch, and began to read.

Hours later, he fell asleep with it on his chest, dreaming of when Korra finally found out what gloxinia meant.

He would give anything to see her face.

_Love at first sight. I really was doomed from the start._


End file.
